Page 7 of Claimed By A Cowboy
“Thinking that you wrote her off for looking so fancy,” I grumble to myself back in the barn.
To be fair, she looked amazing in those sexy high heels and tight leggings. Just thinking about her round, peach ass in those leggings makes my dick jerk. Damn, she is a looker.
Those big, doe eyes with that pretty pink mouth. When she gazed up at me and told me her name, I heard it ring in my head with my last name attached. It took me by surprise to think that way about a woman I had just met.
There is something lonely about her. Something that tells me she might understand why I always feel so damn alone. Even here on the ranch, with men I call my friends, men I would do anything for, I feel utterly alone.
I guess I did write her off for being some high-class city girl. That designer bag costs more than I make in a year. I noticed as I carried it that it was overflowing with things. Books, passports, perfume, and even an old school camera. It was as if it held everything she owned.
Glancing out towards the bunkhouse, I let out a sigh. I was not kind to her. I snapped at her when she asked what she could do for the ranch. I was taken back by her asking that. More because she seemed to mean it.
Most of the folks who come here want a rough weekend without WiFi or their daily dose of Starbucks. They want shots of them on a horse to twat about or videos of them riding to Facegram. Whatever the hell it is.
I am not sure what drove Wynn to bid on a night with me. I don’t think she wants to show off on social media. Cursing myself for being so mean, I head back again, unable to stay gone from her a minute longer.
“Hey Wynn,” I call as I knock on the door, letting myself in. Seeing the bed I put her things on empty, the bag stashed beneath it, I frown. “Hey it’s me, Wylder. Look about before…” I trail off as I see a plume of steam come out of the bathroom just a few feet away.
Wynn steps out in a tiny towel that barely covers her. Just thinking about someone else coming in here to see her this way makes me furious. And I have no idea why. I barely even know this woman.
“Oh…I-I was just going to get cleaned up to go to the main house. Cody said he wanted those of us who came tonight to have dinner there.”
“You spoke with Cody?” I growl as I step closer to her, watching her long, golden hair drip down her back. I want to tangle my fists in it and yank her head back. Her tongue comes out to trace across her damp bottom lip and by God, I want to dip my head and taste her.
“N-no, no he sent one of the other hands here. I was just going to head to town before he caught me.”
Panic hits me like a blow to the chest. Go to town? Have I scared her off? Was I that much of an asshole before? She cannot leave. She just got here and….I….I haven’t given her the day she paid for.
“To town? For what? If you need something, just let me know, Wynn,” I rasp, noticing the strawberry freckles on her bare shoulders.
I blink as I realize how close I am. There is no space between us. I have her soft little body pinned to the wall, her bed just beside us. I have half a mind to rip that towel off and make use of that bed.
“I was just going to grab a few things. I didn’t want to bother you again,” her voice trails off to a whisper and I curse myself. Iwasthat much of an asshole.
“Wynn, honey, I am not good with most people. I was not trying to run you off earlier or be a bastard. I am the last man who you should have bid on.”
“Well, too bad. Because I didandI won. Starting tomorrow, I expect a full day of you being a cowboy.”
Smirking down at her, I nod. I owe her as much. Hell, I am looking forward to it. Stepping back, I tip my head at her, taking my hat off.
“You got it, honey.”
Wynn stares up at me, something soft shimmering in her eyes. No one has ever looked at me this way. Her pink mouth parts slightly and God, what I would give to take that mouth in a searing kiss. When her hand comes out to my face, tracing the scar that runs down my jaw and across my throat, my eyes close.
“I wondered who hurt you,” she murmurs, her fingers gentle at my skin. “Not because of this scar. Because of your eyes.”
Her palm presses to my cheek and I sigh. I feel so close to this strange, sexy woman in this moment. I press closer, wanting to feel her soft body against mine again. That scar is from the past, part of a different man’s life. That man is not me anymore—at least am trying to leave him behind.
“What about my eyes Wynn?”
“They were so sad,” she whispers, drawing me closer, her breath coming faster. “I know what it is to be sad. To feel all alone. And you were both even while you posed for that photo. I want to know why.”
My eyes search hers as they stare up at me. When she says she wants to know why, it comes out like a soft demand. As if she has the right to know. And maybe because she wants to make that sadness vanish.
Lowering my head, I start to tell her what she wants to know. I wonder if I admit the ugly truth about my past, about this scar, if she will hightail it out of here. If she will take back that five grand this place needs so badly. Just as I start to risk it and open my mouth, loud laughter sounds behind us as the door to the bunkhouse slams open.
“Oh! We’re sorry!” Two women stumble in, laughing loudly, ugly cowboy hats askew atop their heads.
“Later,” Wynn whispers, her hands on my chest, yanking me closer. “Tell me later, cowboy.”
